I’ve been all over the world. More than one country for every year that I’m alive. Europe and South America and - the highest mountains and the widest rivers and the prettiest villages. I’m not saying that to show off. I’m just saying it because I’m trying to understand how I could have been so many places and yet this is the only place that feels like home. This is the only place I belong. And because I’m trying to understand how, if I belong here, it hurts so much?
(Source: kestreltrajan, via compelledbybooks)